Wiffleball

Wiffleball is dominating my free time now. I play when I get home from work (7-ish) until we can't see anymore (9:30-ish). Every few days we start talking about adding floodlights to the side of the house so we can play night games. I doubt the neighbor hood wouuld appreciate this, especially since playing wiffleball inevitably leads to yelling of all sorts (elated, angry, frustrated, general yelling-for-no-reason). We would most certainly be keeping them awake or interfering with their tv time.

I think we must be a little better than other wiffleballers. They play on grass, nicely-kept lawns, ground that is flat and consistent. We don't. After tearing up the tree in the front yard the area between the pitchers "mound" and shortstop is bumpy, uneven, and hazardous to ankles everywhere. After construction vehicles driving over the lawn all winter and spring the batter's box and first base line are uneven and below the level of the third base line. The changing ground cover affects play as well: the grass has been worn down to bare dirt on the pitcher's mound, batter's box, and first base line; between first and second the grass is particularly thick and slow. The first base line (running along the neighbor's driveway) has three small trees hanging over the basepath, just tall enough to take out your eye. The field is small too. Only about twenty-five feet from home to the sidewalk. Hitting it that far used to be a big deal, then we grew up. The homerun line is now past the opposite sidewalk, the street is live, and play is almost never stopped to allow cars to pass by.

It is the ultimate summer game.

-Tom
recommended download:
Marcy Playground, Sherry Fraser, and A Cloaking Robe Of Elven Kind